OMG! Surely it can't be possible. As I stand here, trembling, wondering if I can really believe my eyes I realise with a heavy heart that I have to give in to the fact that I've just had one to many sausage rolls. And mince pies. Turkey sandwiches. Oh and those little blini things with cream cheese and smoked salmon on them, which by the way, I am totally addicted to at the moment.
Answer me this... why can I get addicted to everything but exercise?? Even as I stand here the scales are screaming "move away from the sausage rolls, we both know you've had more than your rightful share"! For once I have to admit, the scales are right.
So all my weeks of pain and suffering AKA diet and pilates has come to this horrible end, me, a set of scales and a weight that's eye wateringly high! Thank God for New Year's eve, it's only 4 days away and I get to make all my new year's resolutions AGAIN.
Still, on the plus side, my parents have been here 4 days and are showing no signs of going home yet. Think there's a link between that and my eating? Most definitely and if not, then it's due to trauma in my childhood or my under active thyroid or, as a last resort, my having to sustain my heavy bones!
My new mission - find someone to go to the gym with, a gym buddy if you will. Make sure that person is tough and shows no mercy and won't fall for any excuses! Make that gym buddy my best friend for 2009, hold them close and never let them leave me until, Goddammit, I'm a size 10 of pure loveliness!!!!
Saturday, 27 December 2008
Saturday, 6 December 2008
Light bulb moment
I had always been led to believe that when you had that epiphany, the light bulb moment, the clarity of thought and mind that from then on, all would just fall into place and zen would become a way of life rather than a great name for a health spa. How wrong could I have been? Well as it turns out - VERY!
Since the day following my disastrous birthday and me vowing to change my life, become a better person and start dropping some serious dress sizes, everything has gone decidedly wrong.
I shall start with the dinner party from hell. You know you're failing as a host when all 3 of your guests leave in tears at different stages of the evening. Everything had started off well, the food was cooking nicely, the dining room nicely laid out, my husband had found his favoured black jumper and white shirt combo to wear and I was even breaking out the make-up. As I stood back admiring the table I even dared to utter 'what could possibly go wrong?' Little did I know that not 4 hours later, tears would be flowing along with the wine! The guests were 3 neighbours, Suzy and her husband Jason and Marie. The first to fall fowl of my hosting skills was Jason, who as it turned out at a later date is not able to deal with social situations. How I wish I'd known that when I had, rather drunkenly accused him of being mean for wanting to cut his son's beautiful hair. Only I didn't stop with uttering it once, oh no, I went on and on and on until the poor man stood up in tears and ran from the house. This in turn caused Suzy to cry at what a terrible position her husband had put her in and how difficult it was for her to cope with it. All this was happening alongside Marie who, over the delicious homemade lemon tart, started crying about lost loves and how she's going to spend the rest of her life alone. Suzy drunkenly tried to suggest a past love, who is happily married with children and living in Canada, may well be the one for her after all. I pointed out the folly of this suggestion only to be greeted with more tears so decided that on reflection, it may well be wiser to join in the madness of advocating transatlantic dating.
A lot of headway was also made with mine and Marie's relationship which had deteriorated at a rapid rate after she put her finger in my son's mouth to stop him crying. Not the worst act in the world but when you've just been using your hands to flip raw burgers, you then have to think how wise it is to do that to someone else's child. That coupled with her penchant for constantly calling me 'dear' a term that should only be reserved for people over 70, caused the downfall of our friendship. However, on this night, we patched it up, only for her to have a breakdown about it every 10 minutes thereafter. Poor David (hubby) could only sit in the corner and watch the car crash that was the dinner party, unfold into utter mayhem!
So that was why all 3 guests ended up leaving in tears - Jason after my barrage of abuse, Suzy after her husband's untimely departure and Marie from thoughts of lost loves and burger fingers whilst using language that should only be heard whilst watching re-runs of Last of the Summer Wine.
Things couldn't get much worse surely? Wrong! There's not many people I know that could crash a car into a stationary lorry, apart from me of course because that's exactly what I did after taking the boys to the doctor's surgery. There I was driving home, minding my own business, not harming a soul when BAM! Ah yes...a huge lorry...difficult to miss one might think and by the look of the driver getting out, even he was confused as to how I could have gone into the back of him. Fortunately he had one of those crash bars on the back so the most I did was break his back light. Not so fortunate for me as having gone into the aforementioned crash bar I managed to peel my car bonnet like a can of sardines thus rendering it a write off! You know when people have those moments when they think all is over and their whole life flashes before their eyes? What flashed into my mind was not all the things I had achieved over the years or not as my case would have been but what knickers I was wearing! Would I be there in the ambulance with my La Senza's showing off all my assets? Of course not, this is me after all! I had on my biggest, not done the washing yet, massive pair of pants that even Dawn French would think were too big to be seen wearing! And to add insult to injury, my bra didn't match! That wasn't the worst of it. It was a Tuesday. Power Push is on a Tuesday. Power Push is a group of new mothers running round a field desperately trying to get trim and fit. To take part you have to wear athletic clothing. Fat people in athletic clothing do not look good!
Fortunately though there was no need to get naked in the ambulance, which was lucky as the firemen kept coming in to ask me to remove valuables and where my keys were so they could move the car to a safer place. The important thing though was that I and the boys were all OK and the fact that the car is now RIP is just one of those things.
I hate to tempt fate but today we went to see the car's replacement. Did I go for something flash, a mid-life crisis car that screams excitement with every rev of the engine? Sure, if that's you're definition of a Volvo. I on the other hand suspect that I've crossed that line now into total boring motoring. It's not just any Volvo, it's an estate. It's roomy. It's practical and most important to my husband, it's something that's 'safe'. Shame on him for thinking I'll find another stationery lorry to crash into!
And what of the diet I was starting? Well I started it and am still doing it. Although I feel totally cheated as in the first week, the week where you're supposed to lose the most, the feel good factor kicks in and spurs you on to the next week - I've lost 1lb. No, not a typo, one single, solitary pound. If that's my best week, we're in for a slow ride on the diet train! I have also been incorporating some pilates in with the diet. Not pilates in public of course, as fat people in athletic gear doing pilates is a whole different therapy session I'm really not ready for just yet. No this is me, a pilates DVD and a toning circle. No I'd never heard of one before either but Mari Winsor sends you one to work out with along with her DVD. Not for the faint hearted I assure you. On first go I misplaced it between my thighs, it snapped out of place and nearly took out my front teeth but having struggled on I seem to be mastering it now. I've been reliably informed that muscle weighs more than fat so I'm putting down my 1lb weight loss down to my pilates. At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!
So, the end of my first couple of weeks following my epiphany. Can't wait to see what next week brings!
Since the day following my disastrous birthday and me vowing to change my life, become a better person and start dropping some serious dress sizes, everything has gone decidedly wrong.
I shall start with the dinner party from hell. You know you're failing as a host when all 3 of your guests leave in tears at different stages of the evening. Everything had started off well, the food was cooking nicely, the dining room nicely laid out, my husband had found his favoured black jumper and white shirt combo to wear and I was even breaking out the make-up. As I stood back admiring the table I even dared to utter 'what could possibly go wrong?' Little did I know that not 4 hours later, tears would be flowing along with the wine! The guests were 3 neighbours, Suzy and her husband Jason and Marie. The first to fall fowl of my hosting skills was Jason, who as it turned out at a later date is not able to deal with social situations. How I wish I'd known that when I had, rather drunkenly accused him of being mean for wanting to cut his son's beautiful hair. Only I didn't stop with uttering it once, oh no, I went on and on and on until the poor man stood up in tears and ran from the house. This in turn caused Suzy to cry at what a terrible position her husband had put her in and how difficult it was for her to cope with it. All this was happening alongside Marie who, over the delicious homemade lemon tart, started crying about lost loves and how she's going to spend the rest of her life alone. Suzy drunkenly tried to suggest a past love, who is happily married with children and living in Canada, may well be the one for her after all. I pointed out the folly of this suggestion only to be greeted with more tears so decided that on reflection, it may well be wiser to join in the madness of advocating transatlantic dating.
A lot of headway was also made with mine and Marie's relationship which had deteriorated at a rapid rate after she put her finger in my son's mouth to stop him crying. Not the worst act in the world but when you've just been using your hands to flip raw burgers, you then have to think how wise it is to do that to someone else's child. That coupled with her penchant for constantly calling me 'dear' a term that should only be reserved for people over 70, caused the downfall of our friendship. However, on this night, we patched it up, only for her to have a breakdown about it every 10 minutes thereafter. Poor David (hubby) could only sit in the corner and watch the car crash that was the dinner party, unfold into utter mayhem!
So that was why all 3 guests ended up leaving in tears - Jason after my barrage of abuse, Suzy after her husband's untimely departure and Marie from thoughts of lost loves and burger fingers whilst using language that should only be heard whilst watching re-runs of Last of the Summer Wine.
Things couldn't get much worse surely? Wrong! There's not many people I know that could crash a car into a stationary lorry, apart from me of course because that's exactly what I did after taking the boys to the doctor's surgery. There I was driving home, minding my own business, not harming a soul when BAM! Ah yes...a huge lorry...difficult to miss one might think and by the look of the driver getting out, even he was confused as to how I could have gone into the back of him. Fortunately he had one of those crash bars on the back so the most I did was break his back light. Not so fortunate for me as having gone into the aforementioned crash bar I managed to peel my car bonnet like a can of sardines thus rendering it a write off! You know when people have those moments when they think all is over and their whole life flashes before their eyes? What flashed into my mind was not all the things I had achieved over the years or not as my case would have been but what knickers I was wearing! Would I be there in the ambulance with my La Senza's showing off all my assets? Of course not, this is me after all! I had on my biggest, not done the washing yet, massive pair of pants that even Dawn French would think were too big to be seen wearing! And to add insult to injury, my bra didn't match! That wasn't the worst of it. It was a Tuesday. Power Push is on a Tuesday. Power Push is a group of new mothers running round a field desperately trying to get trim and fit. To take part you have to wear athletic clothing. Fat people in athletic clothing do not look good!
Fortunately though there was no need to get naked in the ambulance, which was lucky as the firemen kept coming in to ask me to remove valuables and where my keys were so they could move the car to a safer place. The important thing though was that I and the boys were all OK and the fact that the car is now RIP is just one of those things.
I hate to tempt fate but today we went to see the car's replacement. Did I go for something flash, a mid-life crisis car that screams excitement with every rev of the engine? Sure, if that's you're definition of a Volvo. I on the other hand suspect that I've crossed that line now into total boring motoring. It's not just any Volvo, it's an estate. It's roomy. It's practical and most important to my husband, it's something that's 'safe'. Shame on him for thinking I'll find another stationery lorry to crash into!
And what of the diet I was starting? Well I started it and am still doing it. Although I feel totally cheated as in the first week, the week where you're supposed to lose the most, the feel good factor kicks in and spurs you on to the next week - I've lost 1lb. No, not a typo, one single, solitary pound. If that's my best week, we're in for a slow ride on the diet train! I have also been incorporating some pilates in with the diet. Not pilates in public of course, as fat people in athletic gear doing pilates is a whole different therapy session I'm really not ready for just yet. No this is me, a pilates DVD and a toning circle. No I'd never heard of one before either but Mari Winsor sends you one to work out with along with her DVD. Not for the faint hearted I assure you. On first go I misplaced it between my thighs, it snapped out of place and nearly took out my front teeth but having struggled on I seem to be mastering it now. I've been reliably informed that muscle weighs more than fat so I'm putting down my 1lb weight loss down to my pilates. At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!
So, the end of my first couple of weeks following my epiphany. Can't wait to see what next week brings!
Saturday, 22 November 2008
One Year Older and Certainly No Wiser
Well, yesterday it happened. I turned 34. In the grand scheme of things, this isn't a major deal but when you were determined to be a size 10, have learnt a musical instrument, travelled the world and learnt a foreign language by the time you were 30, this is depressing to say the least.
Don't get me wrong, I have achieved things. Two beautiful children and all the stretchmarks to prove it. A wonderful husband who is more Frank Spencer than Frank Lampard. A beautiful home built by Charles Church who I consider to be more like cowboys than builders. And this is where I stop, for I have no career, no job, no hobbies, no nothing. This is why this morning when I awoke with a slightly foggy head from too much white wine with the neighbours, I realised that enough was enough.
My six year old son, Josh, summed it up in one sentence yesterday. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Mummy?" Ah yes, good question, however, at 34 one might think I should be grown up by now and yet still I have no idea what I want to 'be'. Somehow I thought I might be more than I am today. Granted I'm a pro at changing a nappy or balancing a child on one hip whilst making lunch with my own free hand and I'd defy you to beat me at manoevering round a busy Ikea store with the world's most impracticle 3 wheeler buggy (Jane)! But I could have sworn that I was meant for something greater.
As if getting older isn't bad enough, I also had to suffer all the kind messages on Facebook, all wishing me well and hoping I had a great day. This in itself isn't a problem, even I am not so grumpy that I can't smile at the thoughfulness. It's Facebook I object to. Like Friends Reunited it only serves one purpose, and that's to make you feel like a total numb nut! Friends who you once shared a sneaky cigarette in the memorial gardens with are now top executives, living abroad, conquering mountains and for all I know, about to discover a cure for cancer! Don't get me wrong, I love hearing from people and love that they've been so successful, I just kind of hoped they wouldn't ask the inevitable..."So, what are you up to these days?" Of course I try to make what I do sound infinitely more glamorous than it is. Navigating my way round the credit crunch is code for shopping in Iceland. Keeping up to date with current affairs is code for reading Heat magazine and finding out which celebs are cheating on their partners. Expanding my culinary repetoire is seeing just how many ready meals my family can eat in one month before the ping of the microwave sends them into total despair!
So this is why today I have decided to become one of the blogging masses. Today is the first day of the rest of my life and like a rather annoying ex boss once told me, "if it isn't logged, it never happened". He was of course referring to the endless cold calls we had to log to show that we were in fact working and not playing solitaire as he suspected, quite rightly actually but we never told him that!
So here is my to do list for the next year. From past experience I've learnt not to over sell and under achieve, in fact, it's far more gratifying to do the opposite. These are things even I should be able to conquer and if not, I'll come up with a jolly good excuse as to why I didn't!
Size 12
Visit Australia
Learn 10 useful phrases in Spanish (and be able to have them understood by a native)
Not buy so many bags (I have an addiction, it's not a problem for me but my husband is starting to despair somewhat)
Get a hobby (I did think buying bags was a hobby but my husband reliably informs me that it's not)
There. 5 things. How hard can it possibly be?
Don't get me wrong, I have achieved things. Two beautiful children and all the stretchmarks to prove it. A wonderful husband who is more Frank Spencer than Frank Lampard. A beautiful home built by Charles Church who I consider to be more like cowboys than builders. And this is where I stop, for I have no career, no job, no hobbies, no nothing. This is why this morning when I awoke with a slightly foggy head from too much white wine with the neighbours, I realised that enough was enough.
My six year old son, Josh, summed it up in one sentence yesterday. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Mummy?" Ah yes, good question, however, at 34 one might think I should be grown up by now and yet still I have no idea what I want to 'be'. Somehow I thought I might be more than I am today. Granted I'm a pro at changing a nappy or balancing a child on one hip whilst making lunch with my own free hand and I'd defy you to beat me at manoevering round a busy Ikea store with the world's most impracticle 3 wheeler buggy (Jane)! But I could have sworn that I was meant for something greater.
As if getting older isn't bad enough, I also had to suffer all the kind messages on Facebook, all wishing me well and hoping I had a great day. This in itself isn't a problem, even I am not so grumpy that I can't smile at the thoughfulness. It's Facebook I object to. Like Friends Reunited it only serves one purpose, and that's to make you feel like a total numb nut! Friends who you once shared a sneaky cigarette in the memorial gardens with are now top executives, living abroad, conquering mountains and for all I know, about to discover a cure for cancer! Don't get me wrong, I love hearing from people and love that they've been so successful, I just kind of hoped they wouldn't ask the inevitable..."So, what are you up to these days?" Of course I try to make what I do sound infinitely more glamorous than it is. Navigating my way round the credit crunch is code for shopping in Iceland. Keeping up to date with current affairs is code for reading Heat magazine and finding out which celebs are cheating on their partners. Expanding my culinary repetoire is seeing just how many ready meals my family can eat in one month before the ping of the microwave sends them into total despair!
So this is why today I have decided to become one of the blogging masses. Today is the first day of the rest of my life and like a rather annoying ex boss once told me, "if it isn't logged, it never happened". He was of course referring to the endless cold calls we had to log to show that we were in fact working and not playing solitaire as he suspected, quite rightly actually but we never told him that!
So here is my to do list for the next year. From past experience I've learnt not to over sell and under achieve, in fact, it's far more gratifying to do the opposite. These are things even I should be able to conquer and if not, I'll come up with a jolly good excuse as to why I didn't!
Size 12
Visit Australia
Learn 10 useful phrases in Spanish (and be able to have them understood by a native)
Not buy so many bags (I have an addiction, it's not a problem for me but my husband is starting to despair somewhat)
Get a hobby (I did think buying bags was a hobby but my husband reliably informs me that it's not)
There. 5 things. How hard can it possibly be?
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